


Warmth

by ContreParry



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Cuddling, Drunk flirting, Fluff, Gen, M/M, drunk cuddling, pre-fenders - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 15:41:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12962670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ContreParry/pseuds/ContreParry
Summary: Anders drunkenly flirts with Fenris. Fenris is flattered. A gift fic for Let It Glow 2017 for tatteredspiderweb.





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for [tatteredspiderweb](https://tatteredspiderweb.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, who participated in the Let It Glow 2017 event!

“Y’know what I miss ‘bout the Circle?” Anders drawled, his head heavy on Fenris’s shoulder. Fenris should have shoved him off and watched the man fall to the floor. But that would upset Hawke, and Varric would have to scoop the drunk man off of his floor, and it was far too much bother. And it wasn’t a great trial to have Anders resting against him, really. Anders’s head wasn’t that heavy, and Fenris could admit to himself that having a warm body snuggled next to him was pleasant. Surprisingly pleasant. He could feel himself drifting into drowsiness in Varric’s room as snowflakes fell outside onto the streets below. 

Winter had come early and hard to Kirkwall, and they were spending their customary Wicked Grace night in Varric’s rented rooms above the Hanged Man instead of among the crowd. A fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, and Varric had cracked open a cask of ale he liberated from the tavern. Isabela brought an unopened bottle of rum, and Hawke had packed a large basket full of treats from Orana. Sebastian had brought packets full of tea and his own kettle, and he slowly boiled water over the fireplace for his tea. Fenris brought two bottles of wine from his cellars, and was slowly draining the merlot. He drank from a glass instead of straight from the bottle, and he nibbled on a bread roll with butter. 

Even Anders had begrudgingly joined the festivities. His demon had allowed him a night of drinking and merriment, and Anders had indulged. Perhaps over-indulged, for he was now half draped over Fenris on the couch in front of the fire. Anders slowly playing with Fenris’s hand, delicately tracing around the lyrium embedded in his skin without touching it. Had it been any other day, any other time, Fenris may have snapped and bristled and pushed Anders away. But tonight was different. Tonight Fenris allowed the touching. Anders clearly meant no harm, and it was Wintersend. Fenris could give Anders this much. He was not petty.

“What do you miss about the Circles, Blondie?” Varric asked, answering Anders’s question with his own. Anders sighed and adjusted his body so he was further leaning against Fenris. It was a little uncomfortable now, so Fenris lifted his arm and draped it around Anders. Ah, there. Much better. If anyone raised an eyebrow, Fenris ignored it. At least no one raised any questions, not tonight.

“Miss all the people.” Anders murmured before burying his face into Fenris’s shoulder. “Lots of people. Never lonely, when you weren’t in solitary.”

“You have friends here, Anders.” Hawke was quick to assure the man. Merrill walked by Anders and patted his shoulder before shoving a warm earthenware mug of tea into his hands. Anders began to drink the tea, gulping it down and setting the empty mug on the low table in front of them.

“No one should be alone in the winter. Cold nights shouldn’t be spent alone.” Merrill said wisely. “Back in Clan Sabrae, we would all pile together in aravels and spend the nights together. It was warmer that way. Made us feel safe too.”

“That sounds lovely, Kitten.” Isabela said gently. “How sweet.”

“And easily done.” Sebastian remarked as he glanced out the window. “The snowfall has increased. It is best we stay inside where it is warm.” The others were drawn into conversations and planning, Anders buried his face into the jointure of Fenris’s neck and shoulder. Fenris tolerated it as he tolerated most irritations: he drank his wine and waited.

“You’ve got good shoulders, Fenris.” Anders murmured. “You shouldn’t hide them under spikey things.” His eyes were closed and he was smiling slightly, and Fenris felt something jumping in his stomach. He wanted it to be annoyance, but it wasn’t. Anders was rather handsome when he wasn’t covered in blood and grime and being a pest. It was flattering, to have a handsome man tucked up against him by their own volition. It was pleasant to choose and have been chosen instead of forced.

“Those spikes are my armor and protect my shoulders.” Fenris replied. “And you are drunk, Anders.” Anders’s eyelids fluttered, his eyelashes a dark crescent on his cheeks, and he sighed.

“Mmmmm. Very.” Anders said. “Are you comfortable? I can move if you want your arm and side back.”

“No. No need.” Fenris said swiftly. He had no desire to move. It was- Fenris liked this strange way of touching. It was not demanding, it simply was. He also found some strange satisfaction in the fact that he was sitting next to Anders. Fenris liked that they were not fighting or putting up barriers. He liked that he could feel unguarded and at peace. He wanted to experience it for as long as he could, and if Anders moved away-

“Justice is going to be pissed tomorrow morning.” Anders said mournfully. “Especially if we’re snowed in. He’ll demand I tunnel out and check on my patients.”

“If they have any sense they will be inside where it is warm. There will be no need to tunnel to your clinic.” Fenris snorted before taking another sip of his wine.

“Justice doesn’t understand people.” Anders murmured, his eyes slowly opening. “He believes everyone is driven with the same sense of purpose he is. Why should solid water prevent people from their goals? That’s what Justice thinks.”

“And you think?” Fenris asked. Anders gazed at the fire in the fireplace, the light of the flames reflecting in his eyes and on his hair and turning them gold.

“I think I need another drink.” Anders replied, and he looked slyly up at Fenris. His lips curled into a smile, and then- then he batted his eyelashes. Anders batted his eyelashes and smiled at Fenris, and Fenris felt himself blush.

“Perhaps a certain brooding elf can be coerced into sharing his drink with a tired, needy man? Though I prefer white wines to red.” Anders asked, his voice pleading and his expression inviting. Flirt. Anders was being a flirt. Was this what alcohol did to Anders? No wonder Justice was so insistent Anders stay away from the stuff. Anders was a skilled and dangerous flirt, and Fenris could feel himself falling under his charms.

“A beggar should not be a chooser.” Fenris lectured, but he pulled out the bottle of white wine, leaned over to grab the abandoned empty mug, and poured Anders a drink. Anders tilted his head back and sipped on the wine.

“You’re being considerate.” Anders remarked. He curled up closer to Fenris, and Fenris couldn’t even find it in himself to be annoyed. This- all of this- was pleasant. Anders wasn’t demanding more, or making any further moves. Just curling up to another warm body at the end of a cold day was physically pleasant, and Fenris had few memories of innocent physical pleasure. He was happy to make more.

“And you’re not being nearly so annoying.” Fenris retorted. “What are you up to, Anders?”

“Trying to get to know you, before one of us says something stupid and we start fighting like cats and dogs.” Anders murmured. “You smell nice.” He lay his head against Fenris’s shoulder again and shut his eyes.

“I have a passing acquaintance with soap.” Fenris snarked, but he couldn’t help but smile. Anders lazily slapped Fenris’s leg with his hand, but the touch was so soft it was more like a gentle paw than a slap.

“You ass.” Anders muttered. “I do wash, you know. I’m a healer, cleanliness is important.” He was grinning too, and Fenris carefully, gingerly lay his cheek against Anders’s head. His hair was soft.

“You’re pretty nice when you aren’t calling me abomination and acting like I’m going to turn on you.” Anders said after some time. “Wouldn’t mind doing this sort of thing again sometime.”

“And you’re rather pleasant when you aren’t calling me a half-wild cur.” Fenris retorted.

“Hmmm.” Anders hummed. “That wasn’t nice of me.”

“No. It wasn’t.” Fenris agreed.

“I’m sorry I said that.” Anders added.

“I accept your apology.” Fenris said. “We have not always been kind with each other.”

“We can promise to try and be better to each other.” Anders offered. “A Wintersend truce?”

“Hmmm. An interesting proposal.” Fenris replied. “Perhaps we will wait and see if you offer it again when you’re sober.” While the novelty of Anders being soft and gentle and warm to him was new and interesting, Fenris was not sure if he could maintain such closeness for an extended period of time. One evening of openness was hard enough. Fenris could not destroy all his barriers, all the barricades he made to protect himself from hurt. It would take time to learn to trust.

“And if I do?” Anders asked. His voice had changed slightly. He had been speaking with the musical lightness of a jovial drunk, but now his voice was quiet. Solemn. Perhaps Anders was more sober than Fenris had first thought. He looked down, and Anders was looking aside at him, golden eyes half lidded and carefully analyzing him.

“We can try.” Fenris promised slowly. “I would be interested to see what we are like when we aren’t fighting.”

“Hmmm. Good.” Anders murmured, and he returned to gazing at the fire. His hand carefully stroked Fenris’s hand, and when Fenris turned it over, palm facing up, Anders took it. They held hands in front of the fire, drowsy and content, and they simply let themselves enjoy a moment of simple peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
